


Loose Ends

by br0jangles



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Wade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hate Sex, Heat Pact, Internal Omegaphobia, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24794329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br0jangles/pseuds/br0jangles
Summary: Sometimes Peter can’t sleep. He can’t stand still. He can’t keep his eyes focused on one thing for more than a few seconds in a row. He can’t think.He has arrangements made for times like these.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 324





	Loose Ends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carnivorousBelvedere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carnivorousBelvedere/gifts).



> Happy birthday dude, I love you <3333

Most of the time, Peter can ignore his baser instincts. He has no desire to settle down or start a family, and honestly, it’s not the 1800s anymore and he’s not expected to want those things. Maybe he just has a little bit of internal hatred going on. Maybe he just wants to be Spider-Man.

Sometimes, being Spider-Man is harder than it sounds. Sometimes he can’t sleep. He can’t stand still. He can’t keep his eyes focused on one thing for more than a few seconds in a row. He can’t think. 

He has arrangements made for times like these.

Arrangements that he hates, no matter how convenient they are.

But that’s the thing. They _are_ the most convenient. Wade is his partner (and that’s a whole _other_ story to be told) and he just so happens to meet all the requirements.

Well, the only requirement. And even that, Peter was reluctant to accept. Even now, he hates to accept it. How could fate have been so cruel as to leave Wade Wilson an alpha and Peter Parker an omega?

It’s just _not right._

Peter is clearly the smarter of the two. The more level headed. The better leader. It all adds up to a better hand than the one Peter was dealt.

And yet.

Here they are.

And every few weeks, Peter is forced to face this reality when he has no choice but to turn to his partner for help. It’s humiliating, that he succumbs so wholly to his heats, and even worse that Wade takes such good care of him. It’s _annoying._

He doesn’t deserve this.

He’s better than this.

He’s _so fucking horny._

Arousal coils so thick and repugnant in his guts, he can feel it creeping up into his chest, making his legs numb, making him shake where he stands. Fury makes his vision spin until he has to sit down, and he doesn’t even make it to the bed, he just puts his ass down right there in the middle of his studio’s floor.

It doesn’t have to be this awful. He could _not_ wait until the last second, until it’s so painful he can’t breathe. He could just roll with it and try to actually enjoy himself. He can’t help it, so he might as well make the best of it, right?

Wrong.

Taking the easy way out would be like admitting defeat, and Peter is not a loser. Peter will claw and scratch and bite until his very last breath before he admits to enjoying this.

He waits until the clench of his own teeth starts to give him a headache. Until the roaring rush of blood in his ears is deafening. Until the ache between his legs is so unbearable it nearly brings tears to his eyes. Until his own scent is so thick in the room that he chokes on it.

His neighbors can probably smell him. Fuck. They’ll see Wade come in and they’ll _know._

They’ll know what a sleazy, needy little omega Peter is. They’ll know how helpless he is. They’ll know exactly what he tastes like.

He presses SEND on the message he’s been hovering over for hours now.

 **_Peter [3:26am]  
_ ** _Come over now._

He tosses his phone aside and doubles over himself, arms wrapped around his stomach tightly, trying in vain to relieve some of the pressure.

It doesn’t help.

He may have overdone it this time, he thinks, as he clutches his stomach and pants for breath. He waited too long, it fucking hurts, it’s going to take Wade too long to get to his apartment. 

He’s going to kill Wade if he takes too long.

The longer he sits here, the hotter he gets. It’s an effort not to tremble as the flames burn him up from the inside out, spreading from between his thighs and down to his toes and to the tips of his ears, he’s _sweating._ The pressure he’s keeping over his abdomen with his hands quickly becomes significantly less urgent than the demand to strip and he wrenches himself open over the floor to get his clothes off.

His underwear sticks offensively to his body with slick as he tries furiously to rip them off, and it only serves to piss him off more, that he’s so wet, so uncontrollably needy, there’s no hiding it, this is who he _is._ He’s disgusted, but even that he can’t stay focused on.

All he can do is push his hand down and- _god_ his palm rubbing over his dick feels _good,_ fuck fuck. He arches his back up as his fingers dip lower, drag through the disgusting amount of slick covering his skin. His eyes cross as dizzying pleasure wracks him. He’s barely even touched himself, and he’s already melting away. He’s too hot, he’s going to die like this, where the _fuck is Wade?_

He smells Wade before he hears or sees him and it makes his entire body throb. It fills his nose and his mouth and his empty head. It plumes in his lungs and makes him moan before he can stop himself. 

When he tries to speak, he’s ashamed of how ragged it comes out. “What took you so long?” he bites. His face is red and his eyes are glazed when he finally looks up at his partner, the bane of his existence, his biggest regret, Wade fucking Wilson.

“I’m sorry, baby boy. But I’m here now, okay? I’ll make you all better.”

Peter scoffs and squeezes his eyes shut again. “Useless,” he mutters. The barb does nothing to deter Wade’s gentle tone, though, and Peter hears clothes hit the floor before he feels a hand push his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

When Wade kisses him, Peter bites him. Peter bites him _hard,_ but that doesn’t stop Wade from doing it. Wade pushes his tongue into Peter’s mouth, and Peter’s sounds of protest quickly melt into sticky sounds of desperation. His hands shake where he touches himself, and Wade shushes him gently as he replaces Peter’s hands with his own.

Wade wets his palm between Peter’s legs and brings it back up to circle Peter’s cock. Peter’s voice cracks on the noise he makes and he digs his fingers into the carpet, scraping his nails into it. He _should be_ digging into Wade instead, for making him wait like this, but he can’t think straight enough to be vengeful. He just

wants

a

knot

but what he gets is fingers. Three of them, all pushed in at once, and it’s _almost_ good enough. They fill him up and fuck him with long, smooth strokes that feel equally as amazing as they do agonizing. It makes him shudder and cling to Wade’s arm and try to curl in on himself, but Wade stops him.

A strong forearm across his shoulders is a violent reminder of just how much bigger Wade is than him. Bigger, stronger, _genetically superior._ It stirs a rage back up in Peter’s chest, but before he can lash out, Wade is nuzzling into his neck, over his mating gland, and it spikes a fear through his rage that shoots right back through to his arousal. 

He squirms, tightening around Wade’s fingers, leaking even more slick and pre as confused pheromones course through him. He doesn’t want Wade to mate him, but the biological drive to be _had_ consumes him and makes him stutter and struggle. This close, Wade’s scent drowns out his own and fills him with a heady pleasure he’ll never admit to.

Between his gland being kissed and Wade’s weight holding him down and Wade’s scent and Wade’s fingers inside him- Peter comes with a harsh cry and with _Wade_ on his mind.

He’s weak from struggling and the effort it takes to stay so angry, and his orgasm leaves him frustratingly pliant. He wishes this could be the end of it, but his body isn’t finished yet. No, that’s not what it wanted, and it’s not going to be satisfied until it gets what it craves.

They both know it. This isn’t their first song or dance.

Peter usually has more wits about him than this, though. Usually, by now, he’d be shoving Wade down and having his way with him, but he’s…

He waited too long this time. He’s well and truly bed-ridden- or, floor-ridden. He needs Wade to take care of this for him, and he has no choice but to trust him.

It makes him nauseous.

“Wade…” he says, and his voice is just as feeble as the rest of him, but there’s a tinge of warning to it. Wade stops him with a kiss before he can get more out, though.

“Relax, baby boy, I’ve got you,” Wade coos, and it makes Peter grind his teeth. Is this what the rest of his life is going to be like? Having to rely on Wade- or men just like Wade, until he dies? Is this what he has to look forward to?

Wade lifts off of him so he tries to sit up, but his muscles shake and he collapses right back down onto the floor. Wade chuckles at him, and a new wave of humiliation washes over him and makes him flush all over again. He grits his teeth even harder and looks anywhere but at Wade.

He refuses.

Wade blows right on through it, though, and picks him up in thick arms and carries him the few steps to his bed. He puts Peter down on the edge, on his knees, and pushes him forward and down with a wide hand in the center of his back. Peter scoffs indignantly as Wade forces his thighs open and leaves him openly displayed on the edge of the bed. He opens his mouth to bite out something rude, but Wade’s thumb stroking over the puffy lips of his cunt shuts him up again.

“Hurry up, then,” he says instead. He doesn’t have to look to know that Wade’s got the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. Peter knows Wade enjoys these sessions far more than he should, but now isn’t the time to think about that. He pushes his hips back and he’s met with the dizzying press of Wade’s cock tip between his folds.

Peter cusses under his breath and buries his face in his arms. “Don’t make me-” he starts to say, but Wade cuts him off on a cry when he pushes in. Peter bites his arm as Wade moves, as annoyingly slow and steady as only Wade can be, until he’s filled to the brim on alpha cock. Their scents mix heavily in the air and Peter would choke on it if he could even breathe properly.

He hates how well they blend together, an aphrodisiac he could easily become addicted to.

Like they were made for each other.

And he needs Wade like the blood pounding through his veins, fuck, like the cock pounding into his body, _finally._ Wade wraps his fingers around Peter’s hips as he picks up the pace and Peter can’t do anything but lie there and take what he’s given, with his ass up and his slick dripping disgustingly down his thighs.

It makes the most vulgar noise when Wade’s hips slap Peter’s ass, wet and humiliatingly loud. It makes Peter’s temperature spike, his mind melting away as every single one of his senses is assaulted. He can’t even see straight for how badly he needs Wade’s knot, can’t think, can’t fight.

As more and more of his control slips away, Wade is eager to pick it up. He loves the way Peter feels in his hands, savours these precious few moments he gets to spend here with his omega. Peter doesn’t know it, but he _is_ Wade’s. Who else could take care of Peter like this? Who else knows what Peter needs like this?

Only Wade.

He watches Peter greedily, drinking in every visual, the way his skin flushes, the drops of sweat dripping across his back, his heat-mussed hair, the sensual curve of his spine, his strong, slight shoulders, the perfect round of his ass- Wade loves every inch of him. He’d worship every inch of him if Peter would let him.

One day, Peter will let him…

For now, he only gets to give Peter one thing. And whatever else he can sneak in along the way.

He roams his hands up Peter’s sides, feeling the heat of his skin, damp with sweat, back down his spine until he’s got Peter’s ass in his hands. He spreads it open so he can watch his cock sink inside again and again and again, and Peter moans so prettily for him, he can’t help hooking a thumb into that tight little hole, just to hear Peter make that noise again.

“Wa- _ade,”_ Peter warns, but it’s so ruined and so intoxicated, there’s no real threat behind it. Wade tugs at Peter’s asshole while his dick fills the other and Peter all but falls apart beneath him. His legs buckle, but Wade doesn’t let him fall, grabbing him with his free hand and forcing him to endure it.

“You’re almost there, baby boy, you can do it,” Wade encourages. His own breath is starting to come at a labour, but it’s nothing compared to the puddle of a man under him. His knot it so swollen and it _throbs_ with every beat of his heart, and if he doesn’t get it inside Peter soon, he’s going to miss his chance. 

“Here it comes, baby…” he warns, and Peter _sobs_ as Wade presses in harder, forces it deeper and deeper until his hole is stretched to the brink of tearing and he’s so full he sees stars.

It pops inside, _finally,_ and Peter scrambles for his bearings as his mind scatters, he claws and grips at the blankets and trembles as Wade continues to grind into him. It’s everything he needs, so _deeply_ satisfying, his reality and his pleasure come to a peak as Wade fills him with burst after burst of hot alpha seed, and when he comes his vision actually goes dark.

He can hear himself breathing and the rush of blood in his ears. His body is trembling and Wade’s hands are strong around him. Hands become a body as Wade presses himself down over Peter’s back, and then he’s nuzzling into Peter’s mating gland again and Peter has no energy left to do anything but feel… good. 

He feels good. Wade’s weight is comforting on top of him, and the knot stuffed inside him is a soothing balm over his hysteria.

They’re quiet for a long time, until Wade picks Peter up and shuffles them around on the bed, until he’s laid behind Peter and they’re spooned together to wait for his knot to go down. 

Call him a sap, but this is Wade’s favourite part. The minutes afterward when they’re bound together, and Peter lets him hold him. He presses his mouth against Peter’s neck and Peter doesn’t even complain.

He’s tried before to convince Peter that they should do this more often, that Peter would be in a lot less pain if they did, but Peter has always refused. He’s softened up quite a bit though, despite his protests. He never used to let Wade hold him like this.

Actually… he’s being suspiciously quiet this time. Wade sits up just enough to peek at Peter’s face and… he’s asleep.

_Lucky._

**Author's Note:**

> SWEATS I HOPE YOU ENJOYED MY FIRST ABO


End file.
